


slow chemical

by blueabsinthe



Series: Pegoryu Week 2020 [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Career Ending Injuries, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Disputes, Domestic Violence, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt Sakamoto Ryuji, Implied Prescription Drug Dependency, M/M, Mild Blood, Painkillers, Past Child Abuse, Pegoryu Week 2020, Pre-Slash, Prescription Drug Use, Sakamoto Ryuji Needs a Hug, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe
Summary: For at least a few hours in the night, the pain killers make him numb.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren & Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira & Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist & Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: Pegoryu Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874917
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	slow chemical

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 for Pegoryu Week 2020. **Prompt:** shadow. Getting there! One more day to go. This is what I get for not planning ahead. 
> 
> This was probably one of the harder days to come up with something and it's way darker than anything I wrote for this week. I think I've warned for everything possible (however, your mileage may vary). Feel free to let me know if I missed tagging anything, and or, you need/want me to add something else. 
> 
> Title from the song of the same name by Finger Eleven.

There’s blood on the wall and the tiles of the bathroom. Ryuji struggles to get into a kneeling position, hands clawing for purchase on something, anything. He blinks to try and clear his vision, but it’s a losing battle as the tears sting his vision. He tastes blood - metallic and thick - in his mouth and he spits on the tile, noticing one of his teeth on the ground. 

“Give up?” The voice of his father is cold, emotionless. Ryuji shakes his head, mutters under his breath. Anything to make the pain stop.

Ryuji’s father leans over him and every tiny hair on the back of his neck stands on end. Ryuji feels his father’s fingers curling in his hair, his grip like a vise as he yanks his head back. He can smell the liquor on his breath and Ryuji feels his stomach churn. 

“Don’t test my patience today, Ryuji,” his father slurs. “You know what happens when you do.”

Ryuji winces, forcing his eyes open to look up at his father. “I’m sorry … so so sorry.” He’s not even sure what it is he’s apologizing for anymore. It feels like he’s spent the majority of his life apologizing for unknown things. 

The grip in his hair tightens, the tears prickling his eyes. Ryuji hides a grimace, refusing to give his father what he wants. His head is jerked back further, the pure, unadulterated hatred simmering in the depths of his father’s dark eyes, startles him for a moment. 

“This is no less than you deserve. You know that right? You’re all alone. Will always be alone. Forgotten and alone,” his father snarls. “Good luck having anyone find you.”

Ryuji’s not even sure the words make sense anymore. His gaze flicks to the ceiling as a single tear trickles traitorously down his cheek. His eyes flutter close, as he anticipates the next blow. Can almost feel the pain flood his body. He’s burning up one minute and cold as ice the next. 

The blows never come. Ryuji opens his eyes just in time to feel his father push him away, his attention diverted to the now open bathroom door. 

“Stay out of this,” his father says coldly, cool composure slipping into his tone easily. “He’s weak. Always been weak. If you hadn’t raised him to be weak, this would never have happened.” Ryuji watches as his father yanks on his mother’s arm, pulling her to her feet. “Get up.” 

His mother whimpers and Ryuji crawls towards her, the tile cool against his stomach.

His father makes a tsk sound as he tosses a towel to Ryuji with a muttered _get cleaned up_ , before he exits the bathroom.

Ryuji feels his mom take his hand, tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Ryuji.” 

Ryuji lets her pull him against her body as she leans in to press a kiss to the crown of his head. He trembles and she murmurs endearing words of comfort. He wants to tell her his injuries aren’t that bad. That he’s fine, she’s fine, everything’s fine. 

She dabs at his forehead gingerly with the towel, the bright bathroom lights making her complexion unnaturally pale. She’s trembling like a frightened animal as she wipes away the blood, collects his tooth from the floor. 

“There. Good as new,” she says, pulling away slightly to asses her handiwork.

It’s the way she’s staring at him that causes the full body shakes. He feels himself crumble under his mom’s scrutiny and he feels little tears spring to his eyes. He tries to blink them away, but then his mom is pulling him into her chest, hugging him so tightly his ribs hurt. 

“Never again,” she says in a barely audible whisper. “Don’t worry. It’ll get better.”

As they sit on the cold floor, surrounded by the metallic smell of blood, he finds he almost believes her.

* * *

They did get better for a bit. 

The beating in the bathroom was the last straw for his mom. Ryuji joins the track team, running as fast and as far as his legs will carry him. It’s the closest he’s come to emerging from the shadows of his former life. He can almost taste the scholarships and fame. Life would finally be a bit easier. 

But then things go from better to as worse as they can get. His track career as good as over with the snapping of bones.

So much for making his mom’s life easier.

_Don’t worry. It’ll get better …_

His mother never leaves his hospital bedside after Kamoshida breaks his leg. He wants to believe her when she tells him everything would get better, but he can’t. 

Even now, as he lays in his bed, replaying the events leading up to his broken leg, he still doesn’t believe things will get better. Ryuji shifts on the bed, grits his teeth as the pain wracks his body. 

Pain was weakness leaving the body. Ryuji’s heard the expression so much he cannot help but believe it. Anything to rationalize why his right leg had been injured.

Maybe the punishment fit the crime. It’s a dark thought. 

_I’m so sorry_ , he still hears his mom’s apology echoing in his chest. _So so sorry. I’ve been such a terrible mother …_

There’s been countless times since he was released from the hospital where he wants to tell her it’s not her fault. It wasn’t her fault they couldn’t afford to complete his entire rehabilitation. It’s not her fault he fought back when Kamoshida mouthed off about his father. 

The whole incident with Kamoshida was his fault. Everyone said so. If he’d been a better son and didn’t cause so many problems. If he could still run. If the track team was still together. There were so many what ifs.

Ryuji lays completely still in his bed, the pain from his leg tickling at the edges of his consciousness. He can see little motes of dust caught up in the dying rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. He tries to hold himself together as he hears the door to the apartment opening and closing with a loud click.

His eyes fall on the plastic bottle of pills on his nightstand. He reaches for the bottle with shaky hands, tips the bottle against his palm. A small disc falls into the fleshy part of his palm before he brings his hand to his mouth. For at least a few hours in the night, the pain killers make him numb. 

He was weak. That was why he was suffering. Why the track team was disbanded. Why his dad left. Why his mom thought everything was her fault. Why she felt she hadn’t done a good enough job at raising him.

The pain was almost unbearable. He half-wonders if the pain alone would be enough to take him. If the whiteness of oblivion he sometimes dreams about isn’t too far off. Ryuji rarely dreams in colour anymore. The darkness and shadows sometimes too much for him. Another thing he deserves. Kamoshida has robbed him of so much more than just his track career. 

Ryuji barely registers the throbbing in his leg as the pain killers finally kick in. A kiss of life. Or was it death? Either way, the pain subsides, mixing with the nausea and grief pressing on his ribcage. Ryuji feels lightheaded, caught somewhere between a chemical induced haze and reality. 

He barely registers as the door to his room creaks open. He knows it’s his mom coming home from her second job. He’s silent as she walks over to his bed. 

“How’s your pain?”

Ryuji shrugs, too strung out to say anything. 

She props herself against the edge of his nightstand. “Oh, Ryuji.” She speaks softly, biting her bottom lip as her eyes fall on the uncapped pill bottle. 

“S’all right,” he says slowly, trying to hide the slur in his words. “Not dead.”

She takes his hand, squeezes gently. “Don’t talk like that,” she scolds. “You’re alive.”

Ryuji offers what he hopes is a passable smile. “Living and being alive are different things,” he says pointedly. 

Her forehead creases as she rubs at her brow with her free hand. “It’ll get better.” She tries to sound reassuring, but Ryuji can hear the strain in her voice.

Ryuji squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Sure.” He loses himself in the darkness, the shadows overtaking his thoughts as his mom exits his room.

_Don’t worry. It’ll get better …_

He finds himself recalling his mom’s words as he sits in a chair on the rooftop at Shujin. The late afternoon sun beats on his back, tickling the fine hairs at the base of his neck. The memories of traipsing through that castle with the new transfer student have his thoughts buzzing. 

He stares at the new transfer student, and smiles. “I’m Ryuji Sakamoto. I’ll come talk if I see you around. Don’t ignore me, all right?”

He shares a nod with the new student - Akira Kurusu - before walking towards the rooftop doors. And, for the first time in a long time, Ryuji feels like he is finally coming out of the fog and he no longer feels numb.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://blueabsinthe18.tumblr.com/)


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